


In the Morning Light

by orphan_account



Series: piece by piece, rubble to rubble [8]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e21 Gaza, F/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, post this though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23450764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Josh could still hear the water running from Donna’s shower, and ignored the small twinge of guilt telling him probably definitely shouldn’t be snooping through his girlfriend’s mail- but Colin Ayres was the Irish asshole who’d been with Donna in Gaza, and Josh, frankly, was sort of the jealous type. A little bit.Josh picked up the folder and slid out the contents. It was a series of photos- a woman  looking through an SUV window. Blonde, smiling, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Donna.A lump appeared in Josh’s throat, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss, established - Relationship, josh lyman/ happiness
Series: piece by piece, rubble to rubble [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644367
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	In the Morning Light

Josh pulled a t-shirt over his head as he wandered out of Donna’s bedroom, thinking vaguely about maybe ordering some Thai for dinner tonight and wondering if Donna would yell at him if he turned on CNN.

Donna’s roommate was gone for the weekend, which had coincidentally happened to match up with the only weekend the President was going up to Manchester, meaning Josh had time off. Sort of. Not really. He had flipped for Memorial Day weekend with Sam. Whatever. The important thing was that he had been at Donna’s apartment for the past twenty-four whole hours, uninterrupted. He stumbled into the kitchen and wondered if this was what people who had normal lives felt like on the weekend. Sleeping in till 8 AM on a Sunday morning, no responsibilities, no stress. 

Josh flipped on the coffee maker and leaned on the counter. There was a manila folder on top of the mail, opened and addressed to Donna. The return address. That name sounded familiar. Colin Ayres. Dublin, Ireland.

What the fuck? 

No, seriously. _What the fuck?_

Josh could still hear the water running from Donna’s shower, and ignored the small twinge of guilt telling him probably definitely shouldn’t be snooping through his girlfriend’s mail- but Colin Ayres was the Irish asshole who’d been with Donna in Gaza, and Josh, frankly, was sort of the jealous type. A little bit. 

Josh picked up the folder and slid out the contents. It was a series of photos- a woman looking through a SUV window. Blonde, smiling, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Donna. 

A lump appeared in Josh’s throat, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. 

The photos were taken from farther and farther away, until Donna had turned away from the camera. He flipped through the photos, detailing the SUV driving down the dusty road.

He looked at the next photo. And then Josh realized why he felt so off. 

A massive explosion- fireballs, debris falling. One truck flipped on its roof. 

The photos got a lot closer. There was a body hanging from the inverted SUV, head at an awkward angle between crushed metal and fire. Blood was dripping onto its face, into its-

Blonde hair. 

Josh tried to breathe and found that he couldn’t. He slid down the cabinets until he was sitting on the kitchen floor. 

“Josh?” 

He heard footsteps, and then a few seconds later, felt a warm presence press into his side. 

A slender hand pulled the photos from his hands, and Josh buried his head in them instead. Donna was wrapping an arm around his shoulders and laying her head on his shoulder. 

“Do you need your Xanax?” She asked quietly, squeezing his arm. 

“N-no. Just give me a moment.” Josh said. Jesus. Fuck. He hadn’t started going to therapy again just to fall into a panic attack every third day. 

It took a few minutes of breathing deeply, grounding himself, before Josh tipped his head up and turned to look at Donna. 

Her hair was wet from her shower, and she hadn't put on any makeup, so Josh could see the scars the lined her hairline, pink and thin. Her eyes were red, and she was looking at the file on the ground between them like it was an unarmed bomb. 

“He took photos?” Josh asked hoarsely. “He didn’t...he didn’t try and help?” 

Donna looked up at the ceiling and bit her lip. 

“Yeah. He’s a photojournalist. He’s only supposed to take pictures. I-I looked at them once, b-but I can’t..” 

And Josh suddenly realized that this whole situation was twisted, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, nocking her head under his chin. 

“I’m so sorry, Donna.” He whispered. It had been a year since the explosion, and Donna was doing better. She really was. She could walk without assistance and was only a little sore in the mornings and only had a few nightmares a week. But if Josh saw pictures of Rosslyn, he’d probably-

He tightened his hug. 

“Why did he send them to you?” 

Donna disengaged herself after a few more seconds and wiped her face with her sleeve. 

“Uh- he’s submitting them for a memorial article in Time, and he wanted me to have a heads up and be able to decide if I wanted to take any out, since I was the only one who...who survived.” 

She took a deep breath and leaned back into him, and Josh was nearly overcome with a gratitude so strong that he closed his eyes and thought, _baruch Hashem, baruch Hashem, baruch Hashem,_ like he remembered his mother repeating over him in a hospital bed in GW. 

“I’m so sorry.” He repeated. Donna sniffled a few times and straightened up. She turned and looked at him, and she smiled a little, and Josh knew she was alright. 

“I’m okay.” She said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “What were you doing snooping through my mail anyways? That’s a federal offense, I could have you arrested.” 

  
“It was already open!” Josh protested, He stood up and pulled Donna up too. The coffee was finished brewing, so he took out mugs from the cabinet while Donna pulled out creamer. “Besides, if a handsome Irish man is sending my girlfriend packages, I think I have a right to know, don’t you-” 

“Who said anything about handsome?” Donna interrupted, pouring out the coffee. 

Josh shrugged and grinned. 

“I figured if you liked him, he’d have to be handsome, since you know, the guys you’ve been dating lately have been so devastatingly, drop-dead attractive that they even have their own fan-sites-” 

  
Donna groaned loudly. 

“In your dreams, Lyman. ” She said, handing him his coffee, as heart attack-inducing as he liked it. Donna went over to the fridge and began pulling out the fixings for omelets.

“Though,” She said, grinning at him over her shoulder as she laid eggs on the counter. ‘I guess you’re not so bad looking. You’ll do.” 

Josh laughed and again wrapped her up in his arms. 

“I’ll do?” He asked. She pulled back a little and studied his face, then stood on her tip-toes and kissed his nose. 

“Yes,” She said. “I think you’ll do quite nicely.” 

And Josh hugged her again, and kissed her senseless, and made omelettes and burned them, and the folder lay on the counter, utterly forgotten about.


End file.
